The Unwanted Wife's Return (Ex-Husband Wants Me Back) novel Chapter 398

the unspected Arrival

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The Unexpected Arrival

MARY’S POV:

Beatrice turned her head and glared at her son, her eyes burning with a deep, furious rage. She looked like she was ready to pick her heavy handbag up off the floor and beat him across the face with it all over again. Her voice was shaking violently when she finally spoke.

“Whose child is this, Alistair?”

She pulled in a sharp, ragged breath, her chest heaving up and down under her blouse. I could see the painful struggle written across her face, the wild fight going on inside her between wanting to scream at her son and wanting to protect me from any more pain. She suddenly raised her hand, cutting him off before he could open his mouth to answer.

“No,” she said, her voice dropping into a harsh whisper. “Shut your mouth. Do not say another word.”

Instead of listening to him, she turned away from her son entirely, stepped right up to my side, and wrapped her strong arm tightly around my shoulders. Her grip was protective and firm, the fierce embrace of a mother shielding her child from a dangerous storm. Her body felt warm against mine, steady and unwavering.

“My sweet girl…” she whispered, her voice cracking with deep emotion. “Are you going to be alright? Come on, I am going with you right now.”

I looked over at her. I looked into the tired face of the woman who had loved me far better than my own flesh and blood ever had. I looked at the mother who was actively choosing to stand by my side, even when it meant completely turning her back on her own son. She was standing right here in the middle of this awful disaster, holding my broken life together with her own two hands.

I gave her a small, slow nod, not trusting my throat to make a single sound without crying.

Alistair pulled his brows together into a deep frown. His face was pale, his eyes dark with confusion and anger. He looked like a man who had walked right into a trap he had built with his own hands, watching his neat, comfortable little world crumble into dust all around him.

“Why won’t either of you just listen to me for one second?” he asked, his voice sounding desperate and strained. “I swear to you, this child-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Vesper suddenly reached out and clamped her hand tightly around the bottom hem of his shirt.

Her long fingers dug into the dark fabric, pulling it taut against his waist as she leaned her upper body toward him in the bed. She did not say a single word out loud. She did not need to. The simple, possessive action said everything that needed to be said.

The rest of Alistair’s words died right in his throat.

I stood there and watched him look down at her fingers gripping his clothes, then up at her pathetic, teary face, and finally back over at me. His mouth opened up to make another excuse, closed tight, and

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The expected Arrival

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then opened once more, but not a single sound came out. He looked completely trapped, stuck fast between two women, completely unable to make a choice.

I stared back at his pathetic face without feeling a single spark of interest or pain anymore.

“If you have some grand explanation you are dying to give,” I said, my voice completely flat and lifeless,” you can just swallow it. I do not care about a single thing you have to say.”

I turned my back on both of them and reached for the door.

My hand was just settling over the cold metal handle when a sudden noise caught my attention. It was the sound of heavy, frantic footsteps echoing down the tiled corridor outside. Someone was running fast, their heavy shoes slapping hard against the floor, accompanied by the high, anxious voice of a woman shouting out a name.

Before I could pull the handle down, the door was slammed open from the outside, crashing loudly against the wall.

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